


White Christmas

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Depression, Gen, Mental Illness, Sad, Suicide, White Christmas, Winter, post-OotP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 14:58:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2585606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry just slips away...</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE + MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE

_Well, the treetops glisten..._

Harry stared out of the bathroom window, his eyes no longer blurred by tears but instead by the absence of his glasses. The steam from the bath was enveloping him warmly, but the thin window just inches from his face let the air in front of it chill, making the tears still resting on his face grow cold and slightly slimy. Outside, across the fields of Ottery St Catchpole, the sparse trees were shining with a thick layer of soft snow, the sheer amount of it making the sky look light. It was a beautiful night, and he smiled slightly.

_And the children listen..._

“I'm just going for a bath.” Harry had told them, no towel over his arm or pyjamas in his hand. Ron had distractedly nodded, staring down at the Quidditch book in his hands. Ever since the battle of the Department of Mysteries, he had been listless, keeping himself to himself and not communicating much.

“Okay.” Hermione had replied, staring at him with anxious eyes. She hadn't stopped being anxious since he arrived. Ginny had smiled at him, but her eyes were vacant, looking away from him.

_To hear sleighbells in the snow..._

Lowering himself into the too-hot water, Harry let his mind play through previous Christmases. The year that his aunt and uncle had given him a bread roll and half a tin of spam for lunch, while they gorged on turkey and potato. He'd have only been four or so when that happened. He could remember with crystal clarity how envious he felt when Dudley showed off the vast amounts of chocolate that he'd been given. His own present had been old school uniform from a second hand shop that he'd need the following September. One white shirt, one pair of grey trousers, one red tie, one red jumper, all to last him for a full week at school. Nine months later, he got the trousers grubby on the very first day. The smacks from his aunt had made the message that he had to keep it clean all too clear. Then, a few years later at Christmas, he'd gotten three pairs of old socks and magically, a bar of chocolate.

He'd eaten one square before Dudley took it.

_I'm dreaming of a white Christmas..._

Sinking under the water, Harry tried to ignore the screaming fire in his lungs. He'd visited the local muggle library during his time at the Dursley's house. Drowning was meant to be peaceful, after the initial pain. Just drifting away...

Two minutes later, Harry James Potter ceased to be.

 


End file.
